


A Matter of Convenience

by theorangecrow



Category: Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, NSFW, Romance, Scriddler, eventually, sort of slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-03 22:47:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14579298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theorangecrow/pseuds/theorangecrow
Summary: Arkham Asylum is a lonely place, so who wouldn't like a friends with benefits situation? But what happens when you start liking the friend just as much as the benefits? Breaking out may not be hard, but breaking up just might be.





	1. Friends with Benefits

The first few times they have sex, it’s quick.   
Hand-jobs are the most frequent avenue to orgasm, excluding a couple over-the-jumpsuit ventures and the few times they’ve managed enough time alone in the showers for a blowjob- although Jonathan refuses to get on his knees.   
It’s not a bad deal, Eddie thinks. Despite his egocentric persona, the Riddler is a frequent submissive in sexual situations and he does like to please…when the person is worth pleasing, that is.   
Jonathan Crane, in Edward’s opinion, is definitely worth pleasing.   
Not only was the former doctor one of the only inmates in this shithole of an asylum who had a mind even close to matching his, but Crane gave off a dangerous sort of aura. An aura that said whoever messed with him just might get a face full of Fear Toxin on Jonathan’s next escape attempt.   
Edward Nygma did not have this aura.   
In contrast, Eddie had always had a sort of “please-punch-me-in-the-face” quality to him that the larger and stronger inmates of Gotham’s infamous Arkham Asylum seemed to zero in on. This, coupled with the fact that Eddie generally had a rather difficult time keeping his mouth shut, made for a challenging stay.  
But with the self-proclaimed Lord of Fear at his side…Edward was nigh untouchable.   
And a little friends-with-benefits action didn’t hurt either. Life in Arkham was stressful enough without adding sexual frustration to the mix.  
Still, a handy here and there wasn’t exactly the most satisfying thing for the Prince of Puzzles. He sat on one of the least ripped up couches in Arkham’s Rec Center, right leg bouncing, hands clasped together in his lap.   
The noise around him was terrific, inmates of every stripe seeming to compete to see who could shout the loudest or argue the longest.   
Harleen Quinzel, fresh from the showers after her latest capture, was curled up in a chair near the television, bemoaning the loss of her beloved Joker, who it seemed hadn’t bothered to chase down the Bat to release her from his clutches. Pamela Isley sat beside her, rubbing her shoulder in sympathy.   
Edward almost snorted. He wasn’t certain the plant witch knew anything about compassion, at least not unless it involved something that could photosynthesize.   
Various other inmates crowded the room, but most were of little consequence, and although Eddie knew them by sight, he seldom bothered to catalogue any names. Sometimes he’d poke at a few of them, testing a couple brains with his superior intellect, but in this place there were seldom half a dozen brain cells among the usual rabble.  
As though to prove the Riddler’s musings, a shout came from across the room. A big lug of a man who seemed to be comprised of entirely muscles and scar tissue, was hurling insults at a much smaller man on the floor in front of him. The smaller inmate was seated with his legs folded under him, a tattered book in his hands. Big Lug shouted something unintelligible at him again and the seated man looked up in surprise, his shock of blond hair falling back from his forehead as he gazed up at the bully towering over him.  
Edward couldn’t hear everything over the bustle of the room, but he did pick out a few words.  
“Get…my way…little freak!”   
Sighing, Eddie cupped a hand to his mouth, smacking at the couch with his other palm. “Jervis! Jervis, over here!”  
Jervis, which was indeed the name of the little man on the floor, was grinning vacantly up at Big Lug now, revealing rather large buck teeth. Before Big Lug could shatter those pearly whites, Eddie yelled again, half standing “Jervis!”  
Jervis Tetch blinked, turning towards the sound. Then the grin was back and he was on his feet, clutching his book in both hands as he ran to the couch.  
Edward waited to see if Big Lug would follow, but he just glowered, stomping over the place Jervis had just vacated to a free chair on the other side of the room.  
The Mad Hatter, as most of Gotham knew him, leaped onto the couch beside Eddie, making the Riddler wince as a loose spring jabbed him in the backside as he sat again.   
“Doormouse!” Jervis crowed, grinning at Eddie, “How nice of you to come to tea!”   
Eddie shook his head. “You know you shouldn’t go bothering those fools. One of these days I won’t be in here. Then what will you do?”  
The blonde scoffed, waving a hand at him. “They are only the Queen’s guards. They won’t hurt the Hatter! It is kind of you to worry, however, dear.”   
Sighing, Eddie changed the subject. “New book?”  
The couch creaked as Jervis bounced in place “Oh, yes! Doctor Leland came with the cart this afternoon!”  
“Yeah? Let’s see.”  
Tetch handed over the book. The cover was torn and water-stained, but it still clearly bore two words- Animal Farm.  
Edward chuckled, handing it back “How do you like it?”  
Now it was the little man’s turn to sigh, smoothing the wrinkles in the damaged novel’s pages. “I am not sure quite yet…these animals certainly are not very nice.”  
Edward was about to reply when the rec-room door opened and a very tall, excruciatingly thin man with bright red hair and piercingly blue eyes was ushered into the room, flanked by two powerfully built guards.  
The inmate had to stoop to clear the doorway, his icy gaze roaming the room until it settled on Nygma and Tetch.   
Eddie’s leg bounced faster and he lifted a hand, unsure if he should wave to him.  
Jervis, by contrast, was off like a rocket, bounding across the room to meet the new arrival.   
“March Hare! March Hare! How lovely it is to see you!”  
Crane’s harsh features softened slightly and he nodded down at the other man. “And you, Mr. Tetch.”  
The Riddler watched as the two men returned to the couch, unconsciously slipping closer to one end to give them both room. Jervis flopped onto the floor again, however, and Jonathan was the one to take a seat beside Eddie.  
“Mr. Nygma.”   
Eddie smiled. “You know you can call me by my first name, right, Jon?”  
“And you know my name is Dr. Crane.”  
The smile faded but stayed in place. “Of course. Did you sleep well?”  
Jonathan crossed his long legs, leaning back on the sofa. “I don’t sleep in this place. How are things coming?”  
The smile disappeared completely now. Edward knew what Jonathan was asking about. He had promised the disgraced doctor a comprehensive escape plan by the end of the week. It was Thursday today and he hadn’t given him details yet.   
Not that he didn’t have a plan- far from it. He had only expected something, well, more. Edward snarled inwardly, clenching his fists. This was stupid. He and Crane were hardly friends, despite their…interactions. All of it was entirely a means to an end. A way of release. A way of escape. And yet, it was all just so….  
“Nygma?”  
“…irritating.”  
Jonathan’s eyebrows, thin like all the rest of him, shifted upwards on his pale face. “Beg pardon?”  
Eddie crossed his arms, glaring up at him. “I said, you can be so damn irritating, you know that?”  
Jonathan gave a bark of entirely humorless laughter. “Oh, how the pot speaks to the kettle.”  
Edward’s glare deepened, but he willed himself back from the retort he wanted to make. “Things are going swimmingly.” he said instead, through gritted teeth.  
Crane nodded, and Eddie was somewhat mollified by how apparent it was that Jonathan had expected no different. “Excellent.”  
There was silence between them for a moment, broken only by the tuneless humming coming from Jervis on the floor.  
“…Did you?”  
Eddie blinked. “What?”  
“Did you sleep well?”  
The Riddler felt a low flutter in his chest and he willed it away, ordered it to leave. “…Yes. I had good dreams.” His face flushed immediately. He had not planned on saying that last bit.  
But Jonathan only nodded. “Good…good. Chess?”  
Wordlessly, Eddie went for the board.  
\---  
Jonathan watched Eddie as he went to get the beat up chess set, reaching one long arm out to drag the table from the side of the couch to the front of it, nudging Jervis with his foot until he moved out of the way.   
Jervis grumbled under his breath, shifting a bit. “Don’t kick, March Hare.”  
“I didn’t kick. Read your book.”  
“Fine. You can go back to watching the Doormouse’s backside.”  
Jonathan’s eyes jerked away from Eddie and down to the man on the floor. Jervis was trying to hide a smirk and failing miserably.  
“What did you say, Tetch?”  
“Hm?”  
“You heard me.”  
“The owl and the pussycat went to sea-”  
Jonathan tapped him with his foot again. “Don’t you give me that, I know you’re lucid. Now what did you mean, hm? Out with it.”  
Jervis grinned up at him. “You should say what you mean.”  
The Scarecrow glared back at him. “Jervis Tetch, I-”  
“Something wrong?”  
Jonathan’s mouth snapped shut and he sat up straight, smoothing at his jumpsuit as he managed lamely, “Nothing...there’s...it’s nothing, Nygma. Let’s play.”  
He watched as the other man arched an eyebrow, setting the chess board on the table. “...Sure.”  
Jervis snickered from the floor and Jonathan resisted the very strong urge to kick him a little harder this time. “Black or white?” he asked instead.  
“White is fine. You can be black today.” Eddie replied, and smiled across the table.   
Jonathan found himself studying the other man’s teeth, marveling at how white they were. Edward must be getting toothpaste from someone, and not the nasty sludge kind they were given by the guards. Probably he was getting chapstick too. The pink lips framing those pearly whites were far too smooth to be-  
“Jonathan? Hello???”  
The Master of Fear started a little, cursing himself for the lapse and clearing his throat. “Pardon?”  
Eddie cocked his head to one side, waving at the board. “I said, it’s your turn.”  
“Right. Yes.”   
Jonathan moved one of his pawns forward, setting it down a second before he realized he was repeating his first move from the day before and Eddie would know it. The man had a mind like one of his death traps, after all.   
He huffed, crossing his arms as the man on the other side of the table smirked, moving his own piece. Careless. How was he this unfocused today? There was hardly anything else to focus on.  
His next few turns went better, but now Jonathan was on edge, watching as Edward closed in on his hapless pawns. He was going to pick them off one by one and once he got Jonathan alone, he would- no. No. Once he got his king alone, he would get it. The king.  
Something touched Jonathan’s leg.   
His gaze shot to Jervis, but the little man was once more absorbed in his book, legs tucked under him.  
The thing on Jonathan’s leg moved slightly, caressing his ankle beneath the too-short cuff of his jumpsuit pant leg. A foot, he realized suddenly. A foot clothed in one of the standard-issue tube socks. Rubbing his ankle. Moving higher.   
Slowly, the Scarecrow’s gaze moved up to meet his chess opponents’.   
Eddie was smiling, just slightly, gazing back at him as his fingertips caressed the head of his king piece, his foot sliding up slow along Jonathan’s slim calf.   
The former doctor cleared his throat. “Nygma.”  
“Hmmm?”  
That foot was damn near to his knee now.   
“Are you going to play or keep fiddling?”  
Eddie smirked at him, that infuriating, smug smirk. “I enjoy a little fiddling. From time to time.”  
Jonathan tried to jumpstart his mind, which seemed to be taking a little break. Maybe it was the heat of this terrible little room. Always too many warm bodies in here. Too many hot, sweating bodies, all of them pushing against each other, shoving into one another, grinding-  
“How about you, Jonathan?”  
The Lord of Despair dropped his chess piece, his mouth producing an eloquent, “What”  
Eddie’s foot had left leg-land and was now rapidly closing in on crotch city. He was still smiling with those damn perfect teeth.   
“Do you enjoy fiddling?”  
“I-” Jonathan broke off, hissing in a slow, deliberate breath as he felt Edward’s foot, strong, but impossibly soft, pressing down between his thighs, moving slowly up and down. Before he could stop himself, Jonathan was leaning into the touch, hips sliding forward. “N-Nygma…”  
Chuckling low, Eddie moved another pawn forward, his free hand lazily trailing through his auburn hair. “I thought so.”  
Jonathan took another breath, clutching at the table, cursing his hardening cock. Before he could say anything more aloud, however, the guard at the door clapped his hands.   
“Rec time’s up! Line up with your hands on your heads!”  
A dozen voices called out in protest, but most of the inmates were shuffling towards the door.   
That terrible, glorious foot was gone in an instant and the Riddler was standing, still smiling across the table at Jonathan. “I’ll see you at dinner. Oh, and by the way...checkmate.”   
And then he was gone, heading for the door with his hands resting just behind his receding hairline.   
The Scarecrow sat still a moment longer, staring after him. He jumped as he felt another touch beneath the table, but this time it was Jervis, smacking his leg. “Well now, Hare. Shall we take our leave? Or do you have more...pressing matters?”  
Jonathan glared at the little man, crossing his legs. “Why don’t you mind your own business, Tetch?”  
The Hatter giggled, tucking his book beneath his arm. “The owl and the pussycat…”  
“Get out of here.”  
Still giggling, Tetch scuttled for the doorway, hands in the air.


	2. Breakout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does breaking out mean breaking up?

Edward woke to the sound of screaming and slamming doors.  
Mind whirling, he pushed himself up from the thin mattress, paying no attention to the cold of the concrete floor against his bare feet as he got his bearings.  
The screams could mean multiple things and Eddie ran through a list of them, watching the door warily as he considered the situation. He was inching slowly towards it when it flew open, slamming against the outside wall. A gas mask was shoved onto Eddie’s face a second before a cloud of grey-green smoke filled the room. The Riddler fumbled with the straps, pulling the mask on properly, his eyes focusing on the reed thing figure in front of him.  
Jonathan stepped into the cell, wearing his own gas mask, shoving a screaming guard to the side.  
“Let’s go.”  
If he wasn’t so stunned, Eddie would have been angry. “We were working on a plan!”  
Jonathan shrugs. “New plan. You coming or not?”  
Eddie was.  
The corridor was in absolute chaos, guards and inmates alike writhing on the floor and scratching at the walls and cell doors in terror.  
Eddie noticed Harley was wearing her own gasmask, having the time of her life poking at some poor orderly with a piece of wood that looked like it had once been a table leg.  
The sound of a near hysterically happy “Calloo, Callay!” from another wing of the asylum meant Jervis had been spared as well.  
An orderly clawed at Eddie’s pantleg, wailing about spiders, and Eddie kicked him off in disgust, running after Jonathan.  
The other man was almost to the doors, occasionally pausing to scare someone nearby.  
Eddie caught up to him quickly. “You got your toxin but not my stuff?”  
He could feel Jonathan roll his eyes. “They’d moved your things already. Check the police station.”  
“Fair. You got a way off the island?”  
“We’ll hotwire a car.”  
“Did you think this out at all?”  
“Shut up.”  
The metal doors swing open with a few hard shoves, as well as a little clever rewiring of the key pad, and then they’re outside, running down the steps, across the cracked lot to the least conspicuous looking vehicle.  
It was raining. Typical.  
\----  
Jonathan reached the little car first, a blue, beat-up Volkswagen bug, and yanked at the door, hoping for a miracle.  
No such luck. It held fast and Jonathan cursed himself for hoping the impossible.  
Then Eddie was there, brandishing a coat hanger. Before Jonathan could ask where in the fresh hell he had gotten the instrument, Eddie gasped, “Coat closet. By the door. No one ever thinks of these things…” and then he pressed himself between Jonathan and the door, getting to work on picking the lock with the thin metal wire.  
The rain was pouring down harder now, and it plastered the thin, white, standard-issue tank top Edward had worn to bed to his skin.  
Jonathan found himself absurdly grateful for the gas mask that was still over his face, covering the dark blush that was rising over it.  
He shouldn’t be reacting to this. It was ridiculous. Childish, even. But watching Eddie pick the lock so skillfully, going with the plan, pressing him away from the car firmly but not necessarily harshly…  
“Hello?! Earth to Crane!”  
Jonathan jerked back to reality, blinking stupidly at the shorter man. “I-“  
“What are you doing?!” Eddie demanded. The driver’s door was open now and Eddie threw himself into the car, reaching out again to grab Jonathan’s arm. “Those sirens aren’t for show!”  
Without thinking, the Scarecrow clambered into the vehicle, pulling himself over the other man and flopping into the passenger seat like a ragdoll.  
Eddie gave a low “Oof!” but otherwise didn’t complain, instead slamming his door shut. The engine was running, having been hotwired moments before, and Eddie threw the car into reverse and slammed onto the gas.  
Jonathan was sent flying backwards against the seat, but the adrenaline racing through him canceled out any whiplash he suffered, and he heard a someone whoop with delight.  
Eddie was laughing beside him as he threw the little car into drive.  
“Never heard you make that noise before!”  
Jonathan stared at him for a second before he realized what the other man was talking about. Again, he thanked whatever gods were out there for the blessing of the gas mask.  
“I was thrown back. It was a cry of pain.”  
Eddie was still chuckling. “Uh-huh.”  
Frowning, Jonathan opted to ignore him. So what if Edd- Nygma had heard a small slip? He could never prove it.  
“Where to, Mr. Crane?” Eddie crowed, undeterred, across the bridge now and pulling onto the highway. “You got a hideout, or do I have to provide that too?”  
The Scarecrow crossed his thin arms, glaring over at the Riddler. “I have a perfectly good safe house. Do you?”  
Eddie had pulled off his gas mask by now and Jonathan could see the smirk when he responded. “Well, the way I see it, I broke us out, I got the car, and I’m driving, so I think I’ve earned the right to stay the night in your humble abode.”  
“Fine.”  
The car swerved sharply as Eddie jerked his head to the side to look at his passenger in surprise. “…Really? Just like that?”  
Jonathan looked away, despite the concealment of his mask. “It seems fair.”  
Eddie’s shock melted away to a toothy grin, showcasing those impossibly white teeth once again. “Well, that’s sure nice of you, Jonny.”  
“Don’t call me that.”  
“Too much?”  
“Way too much.”  
“Fair enough.”  
The little car sped down the highway in the direction of the city, and somewhere amid the Riddler’s constant chatter, Jonathan slipped the mask from his face.


	3. Grilled Cheese and Planning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grilled cheese, old enemies, death traps, oh my!

The fearsome Scarecrow’s current rationalization for letting the Riddler stay in his safe house was that Eddie could cook. Jonathan was excellent with chemistry and cooking was arguably an offshoot of that, but for some reason, anything the Master of Fear touched that was remotely edible was soon the opposite of that.  
But Eddie. Eddie could cook.  
And that was why he was letting him stay for a third week.  
Jonathan stirred the murky green liquid in the flask he was holding just a little too hard, grumbling to himself. It was the damned grilled cheese, that’s what it was. So perfectly toasted and dipped in tomato soup, served with a nice glass of milk…really, it was just convenient to have the other man here. Because he could cook.  
“Penny for your thoughts?”  
Jonathan nearly dropped the glass container, turning quickly to see Eddie, sitting cross legged on a lab stool, eyebrows raised quizzically, a half-eaten chocolate chip cookie in one hand.  
“How long have you been there?”  
Eddie smirked, taking another bite of his cookie before replying. “Long enough to hear you mumbling to yourself.”  
Jonathan scowled, setting the flask down carefully. “I do not mumble.”  
“Yeah, you do. You should take a break. Almost lunch.”  
“And you should not be eating in here.”  
The Riddler sighed, popping the last of his treat into his mouth and taking a moment to swallow it. Jonathan pretended he wasn’t looking at the other man’s Adam’s apple bobbing with the action, turning away from the other man to fiddle with a nearby Bunsen burner.  
When he looked back again, Edward was holding a skull in one hand, having picked it up from the desk by the doorway.  
“Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him Horatio!”  
“Very funny.”  
“Thank you, thank you. Who is it?”  
Jonathan walked stiffly to a nearby cabinet, searching a shelf. “My Great Grandmother.”  
He could practically hear the Riddler’s interest rising, but the other man did a good job of hiding his surprise. “Yeah? It’s very clean. Beetles?”  
“Crows.”  
“…Ah.”  
Jonathan took a breath, waiting for the judgement, but when he couldn’t stand it any longer and turned around again, Eddie was still sitting where he’d left him, turning the bleached cranium over in his hands.  
“She must have been a real pain then, hm?”  
Jonathan felt himself relaxing, despite the subject. “…Yes. She was.”  
Eddie seemed to absorb this for a moment and then he set the skull back down, stretching. “Well, are you coming? I made that grilled cheese you seem to like so much.”  
Jonathan nodded and watched the other man get up, hips swaying slightly as he pushed the lab door open.  
His face felt strange.  
It was only when the Scarecrow glanced at his reflection in the stainless-steel surface of the lab table that he realized he was grinning. 

\---

As much as Eddie hated the cramped quarters of the shitty little basement apartment they were staying in, this place had excellent wifi. This was partly his own doing, and partly the neighbors’, but it wasn’t his fault that they were too stupid to lock their belongings. After dinner, he sat on the sagging sofa in the miniscule living room, a laptop resting on his knees, fingers flying over the keys. It had been too long since he’d checked the cameras and the Riddler was a little concerned that they had been found and destroyed, but no. One by one, the feeds came up, filling the screen.  
Bedroom, dining room, kitchen, spare bedroom, basement, living area, another bedroom.  
His target was in the last of these, staring out the window. The feed was black and white, but even from this, Eddie could tell the curtains framing the target’s view weren’t cheap cotton.  
He sneered, zooming in to see better.  
“Who’s that?”  
The Riddler jumped, gasping. “Damnit, Jon! I’m going to get you a bell or something.”  
Smirking, Jonathan folded his long body on to the couch beside the other man, leaning over to get a good look at the laptop screen. “Doesn’t answer my question.”  
Eddie shifted the computer, so the other man could see better.  
“His name is Daniel Mockridge and he is a world class jackass.”  
Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? He looks familiar. Wasn’t he on the news at some point?”  
Eddie glared at the man on the screen. “Yes. When he took the credit for a lucrative, brilliant gaming design that I made for his company, stealing the rights directly from under me and then firing me when I sued him for them, and then again when I attempted to kill him.”  
“Ah. So, you put cameras in his house.”  
“Obviously.”  
The black and white man on the camera walked across the room, pouring himself a shot of whiskey at his mini bar.  
“Anyway, I’ve been biding my time.” Eddie continued. “I need to tie up a few loose ends, and he is one of them.”  
Jonathan shrugged. “Why don’t you just shoot him?”  
Eddie stared at him like he’d suggested he send the man flowers. “Why don’t I just- Jonathan Crane, you of all people should know it has to be done a certain way! Besides, I built this up so well…watch.”  
They both went silent as Mockridge, having finished his first drink, poured himself another, tossed it back with a shaking hand, and then glanced over his shoulder, once, twice, before checking the window locks and shutting the curtains.  
He stood before them another moment, then stepped quickly to the bed, tugging a rifle from beneath the mounded blankets on it.  
Gun in hand, he knelt first to check beneath the bed, shoving the rifle under it and poking around for good measure, and then went to the closet, again firearm first.  
Every movement was jerky; quick, like a marionette with its strings being jerked.  
Jonathan stared in fascination.  
“How long has he been like this?”  
Eddie smirked, watching the terrified CEO climb into bed, still clutching the rifle.  
“Ever since I installed the cameras. Probably since Batman rescued him.”  
“What did you do to him?”  
“Oh, just strapped him to a table at the end of a gigantic maze based on the game he stole from me, nearly killing him with a giant sword wielding robotic minotaur that only stopped when Batman told it the correct answer to my riddle.”  
Jonathan looked from the screen to him, and if Eddie didn’t know any better, he might just have allowed himself to see a glimmer of respect in those icy blue eyes.  
“How long have the cameras been running?” the Scarecrow asked, finally, unable to keep the excitement from his voice. “Do you have records?”  
The Riddler felt his chest swell a little and he nodded. “I have all of the footage in my hideout outside of town. They’ve been running since my first breakout, which was two months after the initial kidnapping. I sent one of my people into Mockridge’s place, posing as a cleaning lady. They took care of the rest.”  
Jonathan’s eyes were back on the screen, hungrily watching as Mockridge turned his bedside lamp off, then on, then back off again.  
“I want to see every minute. You said you were going to kill him soon?”  
Somewhat miffed that his nemesis was getting all of Jonathan’s attention, however unknowingly, Eddie nodded until the Scarecrow actually looked back at him.  
“Yes. However, I am still working on the trap for him. Are you saying you want to watch?”  
The Riddler felt a jolt of pleasure at the blush that suddenly washed over Jonathan’s cheeks, covering the tips of his ears.  
“Well…yes.” The former doctor said finally, and Eddie blinked, feeling another jolt as his heart seemed to suddenly slam against his ribcage.  
“Nygma?”  
The Riddler cleared his throat loudly. “Right. Alright. We’ll have to move to my place, then. That’s where everything is. The parts. For my deathtrap. That’s where that is.”  
/Stupid, stupid, what was he saying?/  
The other man nodded, seeming to think everything over in a matter of moments. “Fine. Shall we go tomorrow?”  
Eddie busied himself with shutting off the laptop, sliding it into a dark green carrying bag. “That sounds good. I’ll clear my schedule!”  
/What schedule, Nygma?! For heaven’s sake shut up!/  
Jonathan was already halfway across the room, heading for his lab door.  
“Set an alarm. I want an early start!”  
Eddie waited until the door had shut behind the Scarecrow before slumping back on the couch, rubbing both hands over his face.  
It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daniel Mockridge is the CEO of the toy company that fired Eddie in the BTAS episode "If You're So Smart, Why Aren't You Rich?"  
> The deathtrap game and Mockridge's terror afterwards, including his use of a rifle to check around the room are all from that episode.  
> Scarecrow's backstory is referenced from the Year One comics.  
> Eddie's remark on the skull is from Hamlet.


	4. New Faces and Funny Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan is Feeling Things and he isn't sure what to do about it yet.

If Edward thought he had been surprised by the Scarecrow before, he definitely was when he saw how the other man had planned to get them from point A- his hideout - to point B- the Riddler’s safe house.  
The taller man stood inside the lab storage room, tugging the dust cloth off an old, but obviously well-tuned Harley Davidson motorcycle. His long fingers traced over the tires, checking for pressure, and then he opened the compartment behind the seat, tugging out a helmet.  
Edward stared, trying to imagine Jonathan Crane of all people, tearing up and down the highways of Gotham city on that massive bike, revving the engine at passing cars and maybe sporting a leather jacket that fit him like a glov-  
“Nygma.”  
Eddie shook his head. “What?!”  
“You gonna take this or just stare at it?”  
Blinking, the Riddler automatically grasped the helmet being pressed into his arms. “Right...right. Can you even drive that thing?”  
The other man rolled his eyes, bending to pull up the kickstand before he wheeled the bike past Eddie and to the door of the apartment.  
“Of course I can. Do you have everything you need? We aren’t coming back.”  
Eddie grabbed up his few possessions and shoved them in his bag. Jonathan let him stow it in the compartment he’d taken the helmet from and then they were out the door, Eddie fighting an absurd blush as he watched his companion straddle the Harley’s seat. Jonathan was wearing a leather jacket now- one he must have grabbed as Eddie was stashing his equipment- and while it hardly fit him perfectly, it did make him look a little roguish. Dangerous.  
“Nygma, if you don’t stop daydreamin’ and get on this bike, I’m going to leave you right here.”  
“Fine! Fine.”  
“And wear that helmet.”  
“Yes, Dad.”  
Snorting, Jonathan started the engine and Eddie secured the helmet. He wondered briefly if he should hold onto the man in front of him. The bike wasn’t really a two-seater, and space was tight. Surely he wouldn’t fall off if he just gripped with his knees and-  
The bike took off with a roar reminiscent of some prehistoric reptile.  
Edward yelped as he was flung back, arms jerking forward to wrap around his driver’s thin torso.  
Said torso was jerking slightly and the Riddler could hear another sound, even over the growling engine.  
His green eyes widened as he realized what it was.  
The Scarecrow was laughing.  
Unable to hide his own grin, Eddie held on as they sped off across the city.  
\-------

The building wasn’t on the edge of town, or outside of it, as Jon’s was. Instead, Eddie’s little hideaway was a slim building in the exact center of the city, sandwiched in by two warehouses. It was painted green, but a dark enough shade that it wasn’t conspicuous. Jonathan pulled the bike around the side, parking it in the alley.  
He fiddled with the controls on the bike’s front panel, pretending he wasn’t stalling, secretly relishing in the warmth of the man seated behind him. He snuck a glance down at the green-clad arms around his middle and Eddie shifted, hands moving to rest on the taller man’s hips.  
“...Ready to go in?”  
Jonathan suppressed a shudder. Despite the helmet, Eddie’s voice seemed to be directly by his ear.  
Clearing his throat, Jonathan yanked his keys from the bike. “Yes. You got a place I can store this?”  
“Yup. You can wheel it inside and I’ll find a place for it.”  
Jonathan told himself the disappointment he heard in the other man’s voice was all in his head.  
Yet, he was still going over the words when the door to the hideout flew open before Eddie could touch it and two women- one blonde, one with short, raven tresses, burst out, throwing their arms around him.  
Jonathan had a canister of fear toxin in his hand in seconds, one slim finger resting on the trigger.  
“Whoa, whoa, hey!”  
Just as suddenly, the Riddler was there, stepping away from the two women and gripping Jonathan’s arm. “Hey...it’s okay! These are just my girls!”  
The Scarecrow slipped the can slowly into his pocket. “Your...girls.” He forced himself to focus, cheeks flushing as he realized the women were wearing matching green leotards and purple fishnets. A large, violet question mark was printed on the front of each outfit.  
The blonde woman grinned at him, answering in a teasing lilt. “You must be the Dr. Crane we’ve been hearing so much about~”  
Jonathan’s eyes narrowed and he turned to Eddie, who nodded back. “I’ve been filling them in. They’ve been making the place cozy. Now, let’s all get introduced!”  
Before he could continue, the woman who’d spoken stepped forward, holding out a hand covered in bright purple silk.  
“Diedre Vance. Query.”  
Jonathan examined her hand and then took it, shaking firmly. “As you said, Doctor Crane.”  
The second lady came forward then, sticking her own silk covered hand out.  
“I’m Nina Damfino. Echo.”  
Jonathan shook with her as well, nodding.  
Both girls stepped back, falling into place on either side of their boss, and Jonathan felt a hint of amusement as he realized both were taller than Eddie by at least a head. Both were wearing heavy boots, but Jonathan thought even without them, Eddie would be the smaller.  
He was about to mention this when he realized the smaller girl, Damfino, was touching his bike.  
“Hey!”  
The woman smirked. “Relax, Doc. I worked with these a lot before I met Eddie. I’m just bringin’ her inside.”  
Eddie grinned. “Nina was a biker. Come on in, all of you!”  
The girls hurried inside behind Eddie and Jonathan trailed after, watching his bike carefully.  
The inside of the hideout was nothing like the relatively nondescript exterior.  
Bright green walls with purple borders were covered in news clippings and cork boards, which were in turn nearly buried in scraps of paper, each crammed with writing.  
Where there weren’t notes, there were various other loud things- pop art in massive frames especially.  
Bright purple linoleum covered half of the floor, extending into a nearby kitchenette, and the rest was purple shag carpet, leading up some stairs to a second floor.  
It was quite possibly the ugliest building Jonathan Crane had ever set foot in.  
He was about to try to reclaim his bike from Damfino again when Eddie thrust a bowl of soup into his hands.  
“Eat up! Told you they’ve been preparing. Diedre is a great cook!”  
Blinking, Jonathan found himself eating a spoonful. It was chicken noodle, and delicious.  
Eddie had gone back into the kitchen and Nina followed him.  
Jonathan took a few more spoonfuls of the soup, glancing occasionally at Diedre, who was seated on a nearby couch, one glove off, filing her nails.  
She was still filing when he finished his bowl and the Scarecrow awkwardly cleared his throat. “So. What did...you do? Before working for Ed- Nygma.”  
Diedre examined her nails before tugging off her other glove. “Dominatrix.”  
“Oh.”  
And then Eddie was there again and taking the bowl back. “Good? I know right? Hey, lemme show you your room…”  
Relieved, Jonathan followed the excited man, trying not to make eye contact with the two women as they passed.  
Really, it wasn’t as though he was nervous around them. He just hadn’t been expecting...this.  
Suppressing this newest Uncomfortable Feeling, Jonathan shook his head.  
This changed nothing.  
Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't remember exactly which comic it was, but Jonathan has been shown stealing and riding Huntress's bike perfectly well.  
> Nina Damfino was canonically a biker before she met Diedre Vance- canonically a dominatrix at the Pandora's Box leather club. The two worked together before meeting Eddie, but Eddie is also extremely familiar with Pandora's Box, as shown in the comics when he visits the club with Batman for information and the bouncer greets him by name.
> 
> Also sorry for the shitty small chapter I'm just trying to get past introductions of the girls and also I'm trying to climb out of this depressive slump I've fallen into since moving.


End file.
